


To Marvel At

by albawrites



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2013-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-20 05:04:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/883266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/albawrites/pseuds/albawrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So I asked the birthday girl "WHADDAYA WANT ME TO WRITE" and she said "drift/fulcrum" and that's what happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Marvel At

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rekka-Jetti](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Rekka-Jetti).



> WARNING(s): Completely porn, NSFW. Sticky sex. Drift/Fulcrum  
> DISCLAIMER: None of the characters are owned by the author, simply written for amusement and the fact that the Scavengers don’t receive nearly enough attention as they ought to and I like writing straight up porn sometimes. Also, strange pairings are kinda my thing.  
> NOTES: Gift/birthday fic for a friend.

While the others are far more wary of him -- and frankly, they have every right to be -- Fulcrum has always been more welcoming and kind, which still can catch him off guard. Although at first Drift had been a little cold, still bitter and full of regret in the way of how things turned out from the _Lost Light_ , somehow the K-Con had wormed his way into the swordsmech's life through patience and determination. It might explain why Grimlock is so damned obedient. At any rate, Drift would be lying if he ever said he hasn't become very fond of the technician, either; he's a decent influence and reminds him of why he fought so hard in the past.

Right now, he has a lapful of Fulcrum, who's cuddling in as close as he can. Drift gives a playful growl, leaning in and mouthing across the slimmer mech's throat. Both amused and hopefully aroused, Fulcrum laughs airily, reaching up and rolling his thumb over the edge of one of Drift's helm finials. It entices a strong, loud purr from the warrior's engine and Drift huffs a little.

"Careful," Drift warns, nipping at a cable.

"Why? Is that sensitive?" Less frightened and more curious, Fulcrum grins and lightly pinches at the tip of the finial.

There's a louder noise from Drift's engine; he cups the technician's aft with both hands and rumbles into his audial, "Yeah, a _bit._ "

Fulcrum squirms a little, but he doesn't struggle or move away. He just gives a brief smirk and murmurs, "Good."

There's a bit more wriggling from Fulcrum before he's kneeling in Drift's lap, leaning over with his hands on the ex-Decepticon's shoulders. Meanwhile, Drift keeps him steady, hands still squeezing his rear and tweaking exposed wires at the hips, earning little jerks and squeaks from the smaller mech. There's a tongue sliding against the tip of Drift's finial and he groans with interest.

"Fulcrum," he murmurs, peppering kisses against the Decepticon's chest. "You'd better be ready to face the consequences."

"Oh?" Careful nibbles draw down the edge of the left finial. "Why? Because you're getting revved up over this?"

At a harder bite, Drift snorts and pinches a wire; it earns him a mewl from the other mech. "Maybe."

"That's too bad. I think it's cute."

Drift squints up at him, kissing the front of his neck. "Cute. You're calling me _cute._ "

"Does that offend your delicate ego?" Fulcrum doesn't even try to stifle a laugh as he licks the tip of the right fin.

Oh, that's it. Drift gives an aroused snarl and tugs Fulcrum hard, pulling him back into his lap sharply. "No one exactly calls me cute." It's not like they don't know who he was, after all. The fearsome warrior Deadlock.

And here this lanky little K-Classer is calling him cute.

"I just did." Fulcrum grins, sliding his arms around Drift's neck. "So now what?"

"Now what?" Drift palms him between the thighs, causing Fulcrum to give a little writhe at the contact. "Now I think I've had enough of you teasing."

It doesn't take much, to his relief; he grinds the heel of his palm against Fulcrum's interface panel, earning him tiny little gasps and huffs of air before he feels it slide away, exposing the equipment eagerly. Drift doesn't hide his own smirk, glad to pay him back finally. Fingers slide down to spread the outer lips of the valve, one pressing down to tease the rim. A strangled whine escapes from Fulcrum, the K-Con kissing his face and jawline, a silent bargain for more. Briefly, Drift wishes he had more patience, but he can't fight off the quiet little pleas. Not for long.

Unabashedly, Fulcrum works his way down Drift's spike, sighing and moaning. They clutch at each other, remaining close as possible as they cut each other off with kisses and harmless nips. Drift bucks into him, and Fulcrum groans and rides him eagerly. At every opportunity, they lean into each other, cheeks rubbing against one another before their foreheads are pressed together. Drift feels the hot air of Fulcrum's vents panting against his face, and he assumes the same can be felt in return as he continues to pound into the slim K-Con.

There's a roar of his engine when he finishes, slamming his hips one last time into Fulcrum. A loud squeal of delight emits from the technician, his valve hugging tight and squeezing over the hilt of Drift's spike, undoubtedly the end of Fulcrum's own overload. He sighs and nuzzles Fulcrum's neck, giving it another light kiss.

"Mm." Fulcrum sighs and leans his weight against Drift, shuddering. "Still cute."

"Don't you start that again."


End file.
